Well, well, well, you’re a regular old city slicker, ain’t you? Got that nice pinstriped suit, shoes polished just right, hair parted to the side – I bet you’re the Sunday-at-the-museum, salad-for-dinner type o’ fella, huh? You probably spend all day in some glass skyscraper negotiatin’ over stocks and contracts and mumbo jumbo, then all night in those fancy bars and cocktail parties, swapping stories with the well-heeled, drinking those six figure liquors out of diamond crusted glasses.
Well let me ask you this: you ever felt the brush of warm summer grass between your toes? Ever watched the sunset from the bed of a pickup, Skynard in the background with your hand tight around your girl’s waist? Ever kidnapped, tortured and ritually murdered your neighbor’s goat? Ever felt the warm blood trickle down your chin as you eat its heart, chanting the lost rune language of the Ancient Dreaded Ones, ululating the N’Garvuul as you receive the blessing of Ick’Mantaleeir (most feared and righteous be his name)? Ever felt the ecstasy of pain and pleasure as the Most Dark One channels through your very soul and pulls your mind and body into the maw of oblivion?
Us country folk may not get your fancy shows and costumes but we get life’s simple pleasures just fine. Y’all have a good day now, and thanks for stoppin’ by.